St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1887-04-16
R ETRI BU ITO n.
BY "THE DUCHESS"
CHAPTER XVI.

away as the eye can see a cleaning,
swaying ocean. Behind the lawn back
ground of giant frs that blot out the sky
in that direction, and throw into brilliant
relief the white clad figures darting to
and fro upon the tennis ground.
Gerald Massareene, having lost his
game, filings his racket to the winds, and
throws himself prone at the feet Of Ma
dine Roche.
pretty place, ehs' says he, ''Sooth-
ing to the nerves after the town fevers'
Then looking at her and marking the ex-
treme repose of her bearing, that almost
borders upon lassitude, he says gently,
'sTiredsn
"No."
She brightens up with an effort and
smiles at him in her kindest fashion.
Her thoughts are tangled-her mind per-
.turbed Both are far from the busy
scene before her A sense of despair, of
inability to move in the path that
stretched ont so temptingly to her view,
has saddened her eyes and given
mournful curve to her beautiful mouth.
Her days passed here with Maurice Duran
have been infinitely sweeter to her than
ever she had dreamed they might be. The
very nearness of their companlonship had
had its charm, and though no word OF
love had come from h lips, still, eyes
can speak when words a. forbidden; and
though honor renders one dumb, who can
prevent the sense of gladness that comes
with the touch of one heloVed'
Sweet days! too sweet to last-and
swift as sweet A whole fortnight has
gone by-two weeks crowded with such
exquisite recollections as will (unhap-
PLY cling to her for all her life. And
now it is the 16th--to. morrow will be the
night of the grand ball, given i'll honor OF
Capt. Boyle's birthday, who is expected To
arrive about an hour before it opens,
and then Another cruelty blissful
week, perhaps, and after that return to
town, and-a hurried wedding! Then
exile from all that has made lif@lot only
endurable but perfect.
Sometimes thought of Paul Annerley
has crossed her mind. but, as rule, she
has resoluteiy put all remembrance OF
him far from her. She had told herself
that this one holiday at least should be
her own AfterWard let oblivion, let mis-
cry come, but just for these few happy
days she would let utter joy hold sway.
She had heard nothing of her future nus
band since her departure, and ii at times
it had occurred to her as strange that he
had not written to her from those Tor
eign cities, whittier his search of the rob-
Der of the famous sapphires led him, the
sense of relief in not having to write to
him swallowed up all such wonder.
GLOW should 1 feel tired?' she says
now, smiling at Gerald Massareene, who
has become quite friend of hers.
He has found in her an ally-a certain
partisan, who derides the notion of Mill
cents ever consenting to fulfill her love
less engagement to Capt. Boyle while
her heart is given to another. That other,
now stretched at the pretty partisan's
feet, is quite willing to accept her read
ing of the situation. Though Miihcent
herself has been somewhat difficult to
understand, little vague in her answers,
trife willful, in degree-a marked
degree-averse to being brought to the
point, still Mr.. Massareene is inclined to
believe in the creed of his pretty coniidante
when she declares herself ready to affirm
publicly her belief in the constancy OF his
fair, if rather trying, love.
s'Well, I'm glad you are not, says he
pleasantly, alluding to her assertion that
she knows no fatigue. '"To-night
there will be an influx of guests, Or
dered, like the supper, for tomorrow
night, and it would not do to be in poor
form. You look pale, however
'tAre many coming?" Enough to
make us put on our best bib and tucker
and our choicest manners. You will
have to make your very best bow to the
lord lieutenant of the county, and to
smirk at youthful If very famous gen
eraL The only thing to be careful about |
LIS not to oyerdo it tonight; to remember |
that the morrow will bring the big |
Nautch, and to reserve some smiles for |
the hero of the hour"
He speaks with some bitterness.
Tomorrow night will bring Capt
Boyle She looks at him softly out of |
her serene eyes. ssDo not let that make
you unhappy. His presence means less
than nothing. Indeed, 1 believe it will
do your cause good"
:Sweet prophetessl I would l dared
share your creed"
ssWhat creed?'' asks Duran, who has
Joined them unseen.
ga belief Miss Roche has in the I'M
power of love-" replies Mas
sareene gayly, springing to his feet and
the close turf to where he can
zee Millicent standing, for once, alone.
"And SO you believe in loves omnipo-
tency,' says Duran, gazing at Nadine
with calm searching eyes. 'sYou"
"There is surprise in your tone-and
doubt. Why should | not hold such
creed?' returns she steadily, though her
lips have grown very pale.
81 cannot answer that here. VIII you
,ome with me to the Firwoods shall
not keep Won long, and [ must speak to
you Do not refuse me, Nadine. This is
the last hour we shall ever have
together. leave the park the day after
She had shrunk little from him when
irst he appealed to her, but as his plead
Ing grew stronger, more impassioned, she
rose. With her eyes downcast, and her
color faded to pallor that bespoke an
heart, she moved beside him
TO the wood he had mentioned.
Presently they enter it. The eternal
greenness Of it stirs her blood once more
to an admiration that rouses her and